Softer Quiet, Stunning Stillness

The feathers of the birds made the air soft, softer

than the quiet in a cocoon waiting for wings,

stiller than the stare of a hooded falcon.

–Barbara Ras (1949– ), “A Book Said Dream and I Do”

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Posted in * Christian Life / Church Life, * Culture-Watch, Church Year / Liturgical Seasons, Holy Week, Poetry & Literature

3 comments on “Softer Quiet, Stunning Stillness

  1. Kendall Harmon says:

    Somehow only poetry and music allow one even to begin to plumb mysteries this deep….

  2. Karen B. says:

    I agree with you Kendall. I’ve been ASTONISHED in the last 12 months how popular the poetry compilations I’ve posted at L&B have become. Our compilation of Good Friday poems has had more than 15,000 views since I first posted it last Holy Week. It’s now our #5 blog entry of all time, but will soon surpass the top four entries (all of which have been posted since 2008)…

    and I have to give you a lot of the credit to exposing me to some of the poems in that compilation and reminding me how powerful poetry is! (Two others who get some of the credit for inspiring me are Patrick Comerford and Emily Polis Gibson…)

  3. Karen B. says:

    I suppose I should link the compilations I’m talking about:

    [url=https://anglicanprayer.wordpress.com/2014/04/02/poems-for-lent-holy-week-good-friday/]Lent Poems[/url]
    [url=https://anglicanprayer.wordpress.com/2014/04/03/poems-for-holy-week/]Holy Week Poems[/url]
    [url=https://anglicanprayer.wordpress.com/2014/04/03/poems-for-good-friday/]Good Friday Poems[/url]
    [url=https://anglicanprayer.wordpress.com/2014/04/20/a-compilation-of-easter-poems-a-work-in-progress/]Easter Poems[/url]

    All are kind of messy, works in progress and need updating and organizing! But they’ve filled a need and get lots of traffic!

    (Interestingly the Easter Poems post gets much LESS traffic. Joy is perhaps an easier thing to understand, something to enjoy, but not necessarily plumb. Death & suffering require us to wrestle profoundly painful emotions that steal our words, which is why the Good Friday poems strike such a chord, I think.)